The Hanging Tree
by HPHG Girl
Summary: The story of the real Hanging Tree song... Rated K / T for murder, death, kissing and threat.


The cool autumn wind blew the gold and red leaves across the dusty forest floor. The few trees stood tall and still, leaning over the dirt path. The round, white moon shone down on the woods.

Heather O'Stone walked along the lane. She kicked up leaves as she went. She was 23 years old, but looked younger, with electric blue eyes and soft lilac hair, dyed when she was young by her Capitol mother. She wore a simple brown dress and a worn-out black hoodie, the holed hood over her head.

She came to her destination, her favourite tree in the forest. It was greyish and old, its branches leaning over all of the others. Quick and nimble, Heather scaled the tree and sat out on the longest branch. Suddenly, she started singing.

" _Are you, are you, coming to the tree,_

 _Where I sit and wait for you to come to me,_

 _Strange things have happened in our lives so we'll flee_

 _Let's meet up at midnight in the Running Tree."_

It wasn't exactly a good tune. Heather had only made it up to tell him she was there.

There was a rustling in the bushes and a young man with brown hair and equally shabby clothing stepped towards Heather in the tree.

"You have a nice voice," he drawled. It was Odium.

Heather flushed red. "Well, I'm not here for flattery, Odium," she grinned. "We need to go, they're on our tail. It's bad enough we got spotted in Seven."

It was true. The two outlaws had been on the run for weeks now and were bound to be caught soon. All because of one man's mistake. Odium's disgusted father had tried to return what his son had rightfully taken back from a thieving enemy. Only, the angry man was framed for robbery. After handing over his son, Odium and Heather had been on the run from the government and had been recently spotted not far from their hometown.

"Then let's get going," replied Odium with a smirk. He had that kind of swaggering, almost arrogant personality.

Heather nodded and she leapt down from what she called the Running Tree. It was where she and Odium had planned to meet so they could leave Seven for good.

"C'mon, Shadow, out you come, gal," coaxed Heather.

A huge, slim horse the colour of midnight stepped out of the brambles. She rubbed her nuzzle against Heather's pocket, sniffing for food. Heather knew the bone-thin horse was hungry; so was she.

She fed Shadow an old, probably moldy carrot as she and Odium clambered up.

"Go, Shadow, go!" cried Heather.

And they sped off from the dangers of District Seven.

::::::

We arrived the next afternoon in the outskirts of the luxurious District One, the neighboring district to Seven. It was different to my home, very different. Everywhere was grander, posher, or so I thought.

I hopped off Shadow and led her through the ruby-lined streets, daunted by the towering mansions. Odium was smirking for some reason. When I asked him why, he laughed a little.

"Nobody's going to want to harm us here, are they? They're too obsessed with themselves and their social status to notice two ragamuffin outcasts from Seven. Heather, this is just what we needed."

I nodded, a happy squirm forming in my stomach. Odium was right; this was a good place for a pair on the run. We walked and walked until we found a huge inn where we could stay for a few nights before we moved again. I walked to the reception desk, uncomfortable and aware of all the eyes watching me with disdain.

"Umm, hi," I said to the scowling receptionist, a short woman with beautifully sleek black hair. "I was wondering if- err- do you have any rooms spare?"

The lady gave her an icy glare. "Yes," she spat. "Anything else?"

I opened my mouth to speak again, but Odium stepped forward.

"Well, hello, sweetheart." Odium winked, his swagger replaced with charm. "Is it possible we could borrow a room, honey? We've travelled far. We'll pay you well, promise."

The woman blinked a little, and the icy stare melted.

"Yes, we have three en-suite rooms left, all on this level. Breakfast is served at seven, dinner at six. Enjoy your stay."

She handed us a key with real diamonds on the handle. "Room 38," she said sweetly.

Odium winked and walked down the corridor. I was left with Shadow neighing impatiently. The frosty look returned.

"Get it out," she snapped, poking Shadow. "I have stables next door. Go, quick!"

I shot her a glare and took Shadow to the opulent stables next door. It was made of marble and had nearly five square metres of space for each horse. The beds were made of white leather and were squishy and soft.

Shadow sat down and began to nibble the bucket of sugar cubes, whinnying happily. I gave her one last rub and left.

But when I got to our hotel room, the door was locked. I knocked and knocked again, then heard a shout of pain. My stomach lurched.

"Odium?" I said, panic rising in my voice.

The door swung open. Three men in white where in the hotel room; one gripping a bruised Odium in a headlock, one rifling through the wardrobe, the other pointing a rifle dead at my face.

Peacekeepers.

:::::::

The Peacekeeper with the gun grabbed Heather by the hand. She cried out. "Odium!" she yelled. His scarred face looked more scared then she'd ever seen.

"Peacekeepers, there's been a mistake!" Heather yelped.

The first Peacekeeper, a big beefy man with a bristly beard, chuckled. "Tell that to the Head," he chortled.

The second Peacekeeper, a skinny, weedy guy, gave a horrible little snicker that sounded like the braying of a mad goat. "Promise you, he won't be happy!"

The third, a tall muscly man with beautiful locks of golden hair, rolled his eyes. "Stop laughing and you might actually be able to do something- for once," he sneered.

The others clicked their tongues and rolled their eyes at their fun being cut short and strode towards Heather. "Lady, I'm sorry to say you're under arrest," he said, flashing Heather a winning smile with perfect teeth. Heather didn't take the bait, she simply stared as the two other Peacekeepers grabbed her by the arms.

As she was frog-marched out of her room, she gave Odium a scared glance. "What are we gonna do?" she mouthed behind the Peacekeepers' heads.

"I don't know," he mouthed back. His face looked unhappy, almost guilty. "I'm really sorry I got you into this mess. You don't deserve this."

Heather was touched by these words. "It's not your fault," she mouthed slowly. "Please don't apologise."

But then they were crammed into the mirrored lift, and Heather was squished between the oily skin of the thin man and the hairy body of the fat man. Heather attempted again to plead innocent.

"Men, please, we didn't take anything that wasn't ours!" she protested. "I swear…"

But then she caught Odium's eye. The guilt she fancied had been there before was ten times more obvious now. Something was wrong.

"Heather, I'm sorry…" he mumbled, his ears reddening. "Heather, that night my dad returned the cash? I forced him to just take a little more."

Heather's heart sank a little, knowing the news would be bad. "How much is a little more?" she dared to ask.

"Twenty thousand more," he said gravely.

Heather's stomach plunged from its position. "No," she whispered. "No, please, say you didn't."

Odium nodded. A single tear rolled down Heather's cheek. Now she realised they were in real trouble.

:::::

The three men marched us outside to a small tram-like vehicle with the bright blue words PEACEKEEPERS on the front and side. The knot in my stomach only got tighter. I had lied to Heather and I had got her in trouble. What had she done to deserve what we would probably receive? The innocent little girl had nothing to do with the whole incident.

And yet, she would be dragged in and punished for something I had done.

The three men pushed us into the tram. On the inside it looked more like a prison cell. The skinny man drove, the fat man sat in the passenger's seat eating, and the muscly blonde sat with us. He seemed to be the leader of the three: he bossed the other two around and seemed to be in control.

There was silence in the tram. I tried to put my hand on Heather's shoulder, but she swatted it away before I could lay a finger on her.

"Don't even think about it, Odium Talloway!" she snapped, her eyes misty with tears. She hid her face in her hands and I heard crying.

"Yeesh, is she always like this?" whispered the Peacekeeper.

I shot him a glare and tried to ignore how tight my throat had become. I gulped hard as the man patted the woman.

"There there, babes. No need to cry so, I'm here," he said, pushing back his sweeping hair.

"Shut it," I growled. What a flirt!

He loaded his gun menacingly. "No, you shut it, or I'll do it for you," he snapped, once again fiddling with his hair admiringly.

Soon, we pulled up and the man thrust open the door. "After you, my lady," the Peacekeeper said to Heather, but she just roughly pushed me and the man through first.

"You weren't made for Peacekeeping, know that?" I said coolly, trying to think of a harsh burn. "You were made for being a low-life flirt. And that's what you are."

The Peacekeeper scowled and marched us into a building. My first impression was that it was big, very big. The three men took us to the foyer, where a smiling lady stood at a marble desk. The women had extremely long lime-green hair in ringlets and I could tell instantly she was from the Capitol.

"Hello love, how can I help?" she said in an annoyingly high voice.

"Uhh-" I couldn't find the words. "Well, I – we – "

The blonde Peacekeeper cut in. "They're robbers, sweetcake," he said, winking. "I need to see Eastchurch."

 _This man though,_ I thought to myself.

The lady blushed and batted her eyelids at the Peacekeeper. "Sure thing," she giggled. She handed him a key-card and pointed to a lift. "Just scan it on the buttons."

The Peacekeeper pouted ridiculously, gave another wink, and marched us over to a lift. The doors slid slowly shut- and we zipped upwards. My stomach lurched as we zoomed upwards.

"Hold on," said the skinny man, giving a flash of a mouth with few teeth, all stained yellow.

I had just enough time to grab on to the railings on the walls before we screeched to a stop. My feet left the ground and Heather gave a tiny scream. The thin man gave his gurgling goat laugh and we got out. Heather looked a very pale shade of green.

The Peacekeepers led us into a fancy marble-walled office furnished with one large desk. Behind the desk sat an incredibly mean-looking man. He had a bald head and a menacing face that was half-tattooed red with black lines and curls. I supposed it was the latest fashion in the Capitol, but still, it made me shudder.

The man looked at the blonde Peacekeeper. "Mister Pucey," he spat. "What brings you and your squad here?"

Pucey took the man's hand and shook it warmly. "Sergeant Eastchurch," he grinned, "I am here with the wanted criminals Mr. Odium Talloway and Miss Heather O'Stone. We found them in a hotel in District One. We searched the room, interrogated the faculty, but couldn't find anything to help us with the hunt. Still, we caught them both."

Eastchurch gave Pucey a nod, as if to congratulate him.

Then the skinny one piped up. "So, what are we to do with them?"

"Did I ask you to speak, Mordaunt?" thundered Eastchurch.

Mordaunt shook his head and mumbled an apologetic "No, sir". He took a step back.

"But a good thought," said Eastchurch, putting a hand to his chin.

Mordaunt looked as though Panem's prettiest woman had just kissed him full on the lips.

"What do you fancy of a public torturing, Talloway?" Eastchurch sneered.

I felt so angry, I spat at his desk. I heard the bearded man snigger behind me.

"You find this unhygienic beast _funny_ , do you, Kirkby?" Eastchurch snarled.

Kirkby shook his head hurriedly and stepped back like Mordaunt.

"Didn't think so," he snapped. And he thought some more.

"Might I suggest a hanging, sir?" said Pucey meekly.

Eastchurch gave a horrible grin and nodded. "Yes, a hanging would be fitting. But first, an interrogation."

::::::

The very next day, I had to interrogate the beautiful O'Stone. She walked defiantly into the brightly lit room and sat at the readily drawn chair, flicking her pale lilac hair. I tried to give a nice smile but she just rolled her eyes rudely.

I cleared my throat and put the clipboard on the table. "Heather Cressida O'Stone of District Seven," I said. "I will ask you a string of questions and you must answer them as truthful as possible. Otherwise, I'm afraid I'll have to shoot your beautiful heart."

Heather scowled darkly. _What's with the rudeness?_ I thought angrily. _I'm only trying to compliment her!_ I continued, trying to think of a sweet, brave thing to say.

"First question- will you go out with me?" I smiled.

She slapped me across the face.

I rubbed my stinging cheek and dropped the romance. She looked beautiful, seemed beautiful, but boy, was she _rude_. I gave her an equally mean scowl and aimed the gun at her head. The defiant look was replaced by a completely scared one.

"I'm not afraid to pull the trigger, O'Stone," I snarled. "It will save you a lot of pain, compared to the execution _we've_ got planned for you."

Her face dropped the fear, but some wariness still remained.

"Question one. Do you have a criminal record?" I asked.

"No," she half-whispered.

"Have you ever witnessed your – umm – companion Odium Talloway committing crimes against the people or property of Panem?"

"What, actually seen it? No. I know of it and all, but… no."

"Right. Tell me and tell me honestly, do you know where the money stolen was or is hidden?"

Heather shook her head. "I wasn't even part of the robbery. I didn't know anything was taken until yesterday, I swear. Ask Odium. It was _his_ father that he made take it."

"Then why did you flee District Seven with him?" I asked suspiciously.

"Because- because…" The word caught in her throat and one blue-white tear ran down her soft, pale skin.

"Because I… I love him."

:::::::

Odium walked into the interrogation room feeling guilty and untrustworthy. The knot still in his stomach, he sat at the chair and faced Eastchurch opposite him. He just couldn't meet his eyes.

"Odium Talloway of District Seven," he said in a somewhat professional manner, reading off the clipboard in his hands. "I will ask you a string of questions and you must answer them as truthful as possible. Otherwise, I will shoot you in the heart."

He dropped both the clipboard and the professionality, and was once again snarling in my face. "Here and now, Talloway, I could kill you, erase any memory of your existence. You're due to be executed anyway, so if I were you, I'd watch your neck."

I ignored the fact he had made a joke – neck, hanging, geddit? – and nodded gravely.

"Number one. Do you deny or confirm you stole the money of Mister Abel Burton- through your father?"

There was no point lying. "Confirm," said Odium weakly.

"Number two. Do you deny or confirm that your father was found taking said money on the eighteenth of September this year – that is, one month and thirteen days ago?"

"Confirm," he repeated.

"Number three. Do you deny or confirm that you have been on the run from Panem's government since the night of the robbery- that is, the eighteenth of September?"

"Confirm." This was getting boring now.

"Number four. Do you deny or confirm that, on the thirty-first of October- that is, yesterday morning- you che- "

" _Confirm!"_ snapped Odium! "I confirm I'm guilty! I confirm I took the money through my dad, ran away with Heather, got a room at the hotel! I confirm those flipping Peacekeepers ratted us out! I confirm! All I ask is please, just hang me now!"

Odium looked up at his interrogator. There were tears in his eyes.

"You may go," said Eastchurch quietly.

And Odium left.

::::

The hanging was to be next Thursday.

I hadn't seen Odium since we were caught. I had sat on my cell bed. The Peacekeepers told me to eat, the matrons told me to wash, but I did neither. Instead, I sat and stared blankly at the plain white wall, probably designed to make me go crazy.

All the while, I was drifting between consciousness and an odd, almost dream-like world. This world was completely white and nearly bare, just like the cell I was in; but the only difference was Odium. He walked in and out of this world, never saying a word, just displaying his face, full of pure guilt and sorrow.

But one day, this Odium changed.

He strode into the room, and I was shocked to see a noose around his neck. But then my heart surged with joy. (Once in the conscious world, I had no idea why I was so happy at this second.) He inched towards my grinning face and started to mouth words at me. Then I realised he was making a sound, but I couldn't hear it because of the pieces of rope I suddenly found trailing from my ears.

I yanked them out, but the horrible noise that came from his mouth made me want to put them back in again. Odium was making such a weird sound, somewhere between a little girl's scream and the shooting of bullets. I hated it, I wanted it to stop, I had tears coming from my eyes, and just when I though I would attack him to make him stop it, he shut his mouth. I blinked slowly and so did he. He seemed to be mirroring my moves. I raised a hand. So did he. Then we grasped each other in the most wretched, amazing embrace both of us had ever experienced. Then he stepped backwards off his own accord and said one short word.

"Run."

Then he sprinted away. I tried to follow him but lost him in the now pitch-black room. I called his name. I felt through the darkness. But then something lit up, and it was Odium. I wanted to feel him, to hug him, to kiss his lips-

Then I saw the noose, tight as wet clothes, around his neck. I saw his limp, hanging body- and fell to the ground. I sobbed, sobbed until I had no more tears, sobbed until a person walked right in front of me…

"Your lunch, Miss O'Stone?"

I was snapped back into the real world. Kirkby, the obese Peacekeeper, stood in front of me, holding a tray on which balanced one tiny sandwich.

"Carrion and beef," he said, almost kindly. "All the rage in the Capitol."

He put it next to me on my cell bed, then took a doughnut from his pocket.

"Have one from my secret stash. I swear, miss, they're starving you."

I felt a twinge of affection and gratitude. But then Kirkby turned to walk away. I cried out.

"ODIUM!" I yelled. "I need to see Odium, please, Kirkby!"

He turned around and gave a smile.

"Sorry, miss, but I'm only allowed to give you lunch. It was breaching the rules enough giving you that doughnut."

I looked up at him, eyes sparkling with tears.

" _Please._ It's the last time I'll ever see him."

He turned back to me.

"The hanging's in an hour," I pleaded.

He slowly nodded.

As the cell door opened, I felt a wave of sorrow crash over me. This really would be the last time I would see Odium – alive. He looked up at me, once-handsome face now ugly with sadness. He had grey bags under his dulled eyes, his skin looked dry and dehydrated, and his eyes filled with tears the second I entered the room.

"Odium, I'm sorry I was so mean, rude, ignorant…" I tried to speak but saw the tear crawling down his greyed skin and let out a sob. He didn't move.

"Odium, please don't be mad," I wept. "I've sat there for a whole week, thinking all sorts of hateful thoughts at you, being a wretched villain, but what have you done?"

I was going to carry on, but then I realised- he had done something. Something terrible. He'd stolen a huge amount of money, for Panem's sake! I should hate him!

But I loved him, and it's pretty hard to hate your true love.

::::

Heather sat next to me, wiping the tear from my face with one gentle finger. My eyes crawled their way towards her face, her beautiful, tender face, and I spoke for the first time since the interrogation.

"You don't deserve this," I croaked, my voice hoarse for lack of speech.

"What don't I deserve?" she whispered.

"You don't deserve to be cooped up here, locked in a cell and treated like a prisoner for my crime," I replied. "What have you done?"

Heather looked sadly at the floor.

" _I asked you a question!"_ I barked.

Heather looked up in surprise. I leaked another tear.

"I'm sorry, Heather, I'm sorry," I breathed. "I've been so angry and upset recently, I just- "

"Ssh."

It was my turn to look up in surprise. She had a finger on my lips. "Please. Don't be sad. Be happy. Be happy for me."

She brushed her soft lips against mine. My heart fluttered as we embraced, her eyelids wetting again. We broke apart. I tried to hide the sadness in my eyes, but I knew Heather could see it.

"It's true," she whispered. "They'll be here soon. Then they'll take you away, and… oh, Odium…"

And, just at that moment, Pucey, Mordaunt and Kirkby entered the room. Heather let out a strangled sob as they grabbed me by the arms.

"Men… please," is all I could whisper.

Pucey let out a laugh, a laugh so vile it boiled my blood with anger. I span round and lashed out at the three men, punching Pucey in the gut. Pucey cried out, collapsed to the floor, and I grabbed his gun. Kirkby fumbled with his, as Mordaunt shot at me and missed. I loaded my gun and shot Mordaunt first in the heart. He gave a mad scream and fell over Pucey's body. I then shot Kirkby once, twice, three times, and shot Pucey for good measure.

I spun, my blood turned cold, and saw Heather's aghast face. Her eyes were wide with shock and her hands were smacked over her mouth, which was in a big O.

"Odium… how could you?" she gasped.

But my heart was light. "Heather, we're free," I told her, smile spreading across my face.

"Oh, no, you're not," came a snarling voice.

My body froze in fear as someone entered the cell. Eastchurch the Peacekeeper stepped in, his tattooed face twisted into a horrid grin.

::::

He even gave Odium the pleasure of killing him in his own district.

They took us in the same tram we arrived in back to the forest on the outskirts of Seven. Eastchurch marched Odium through the woods, looking at all the trees. Soon he came to one he liked. He gave it a good pat, examined the branches, and snickered.

"Nice tree to die on, hey, Talloway?" he smirked.

Odium looked up. "The Running Tree," I mouthed to him. He nodded sadly.

Eastchurch placed down a tiny stool below a low-hanging branch. Odium stepped up onto it, his face sombre as the rough piece of rope was knotted loosely around his neck.

Then Odium said one word, clear as anything: "Run."

I didn't want to run, I wanted to stay with him, I wanted to be with him forever. Why couldn't I die too? Then I could be with Odium forever…

I stood right next to him, until Eastchurch gave his word.

"Now."

Odium gave me one last brave smile and stepped off of the stool. I fell to my knees, hands over my face, as the last breaths seeped from him. As I looked up, I saw nothing but a dead man hanged from the tree, and I burst into sobs.

The only thing that could stop me from killing myself too was sitting next to his dangling body and singing.

"Are you, are you, coming to the tree?

Where they strung up a man…. They say who murdered... three…

Strange things did happen here- no stranger would it be

If we met at midnight in the Running Tree."

I improvised the song slowly, tears streaming down my face.

"Are you, are you, coming to the tree,

Where the dead man called out for his love to flee…

Strange things did happen here, no stranger would it be,

If we met at midnight in the Running Tree."

The tears were coming thick and fast now.

"Are you, are you, coming to the tree?

Where I told you to run so we'd both be free,

Strange things did happen here, no stranger would it be,

If we met at midnight in the Running Tree.

Are you, are you coming to the tree

Wear a necklace of rope… side by side with me

Strange things did happen here, no stranger would it be

If we met at midnight in the… Hanging Tree…"


End file.
